Living A Lie
by SecretsAndLiesContest
Summary: When a ghost from the past comes back into her life, Bella realizes the life she's been living is a lie. What will it take to get back what she lost?


**Subject/Email Header: Secrets and Lies Contest Entry**

 **Title: Living A Lie**

 **Summary: When a ghost from the past comes back into her life, Bella** **realizes** **the life she's been living is a lie. What will it take to get back what she lost?**

 **Pairing: Edward / Bella**

 **Rating: M**

 **Word Count: 14,309**

 **DISCLAIMER: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is** **intended.**

 **Living a Lie**

The evening sun shines brightly through my bedroom window, its harshness reflecting off my vanity mirror, making it difficult to apply the last of my makeup. It's an exercise in futility, really, it being only the two of us every night, but he insists. The boyish looks he sometimes gives when he asks always makes me smile. 

" _I want you to look your best, Bella, even if it's just for me."_

After a final swipe of lipstick, I rush down the stairs to put the finishing touches on supper, my heels dangling from one hand while securing my earring back with the other.

Mindful not to get anything on my dress, I make sure everything is just the way he likes it. The country fried steak is piping hot, fresh from the skillet and staying warm in the oven. The fried okra is still crisp, and the biscuits are still warm but wrapped in a dish towel and tucked into a basket. I carry them to the table and make the final adjustments to each place setting.

Granny Cullen's china is turned just the right way to make sure the hideous floral pattern on the edge of the plate is on display in the same direction, and the silverware is straight and perfectly parallel to the cloth napkin's edge. Satisfied with everything, I turn to look at the clock. It reads six, and he should be walking through the door at any moment.

I busy myself with bringing the food to the table, careful not to spill anything as I go. I pour the iced tea, slip on my shoes, and settle into my chair to wait. As the minutes pass, I find myself playing with the pearls around my neck as I stare at my glass. The drops of condensation drip down the side like the ticking away of the seconds of my life, silently and somewhat unremarkable.

A laugh, feminine and light, floats through the open windows, carried on the cool March breeze, bringing me to my feet. I step to the window overlooking the barn. What I see makes me pause and swallow down the feelings of jealousy inside me.

My husband is helping Rosalie Hale, our vet, into her truck, being just a little _too_ helpful as he gives her a boost, his hands on her backside. He closes her door and then leans on his folded arms into the open window, all with a smile on his face. Reaching in, he brushes her blonde hair from her eyes as the wind blows through the cab of the truck. Unable to watch any more, I turn and walk back to the table.

When he finally waltzes in after removing his boots, his smile is wide. "Smells awfully good in here." He heads to the kitchen to wash up after being in the barn the last few hours. "I'm starvin'," he says over the sound of running water.

"It's ready when you are," I say loud enough for him to hear.

His heavy footsteps precede him as he walks into the dining room. With little to no grace, he sits in his chair and grabs his iced tea and chugs, drops escaping the corners of his mouth and dribbling down his chin before the empty glass meets the tabletop with a thud. "Ahhh. That hit the spot. Worked up quite a sweat out there today," he says as he unceremoniously yanks his napkin off the table, stuffing it into his shirt collar and grabbing for the dishes before him.

"Yeah? Is Dawn gonna be okay?" I pick up my fork and push my food around my plate. Of all the horses he has, I'm especially attached to her. I've spent many hours in her company sharing my troubles and woes.

When my husband told me this morning Dawn wasn't looking good, I was upset. But when he offered to call Rosalie, I calmed down a bit. She's always been great about dropping what she's doing and coming right away. And while she's good at what she does, she's a bit intimidating, meaning I try to steer clear of her when she's here to treat one of the horses.

"She'll be fine. I think she might have eaten some bad feed."

I nod as I continue to shuffle the okra back and forth on my plate, happy to know it isn't something serious and will pass.

"It's a little soggy, huh?" he asks of the now soft, fried vegetables. "It's all a little on the cold side, actually."

"It was ready right at six," I say without meeting his eyes. I'm certainly in no mood to argue about how much time he spent in the barn with Rosalie Hale.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

The rest of supper is spent in companionable silence, my husband eating as if it were an Olympic event, shoveling it in as fast as he can chew and swallow. His enthusiasm brings a small smile to my face, even if he is a bit messy. He's always been the silly one in our relationship; going to great lengths to make me smile and laugh.

When we're finished, he pushes away from the table. "Thanks, darlin'."Kissing me on the head, he continues back outside while I clear the table.

He spends his days playing cowboy while I play my role as the doting housewife. My dreams of maybe one day being a teacher took a backseat when I realized how much he enjoyed having me home to take care of him. We spend most days together, but he occasionally goes to visit his father, the warm but private Carlisle Cullen, to look over the vast fortune he'll one day inherit.

Cullen Oil owns land as far as the eye can see here in the grand state of Texas. Miles and miles of oil wells and rigs dot the landscape. It's a family business passed down through generations, father to son, and one day it will all belong to my husband.

Carlisle and his wife, Esme, welcomed me with open arms from the very start. While I may have been a girl from humble beginnings, the daughter of the town's sheriff, they never made me feel as if they were above me. It was hard enough to convince myself I was worthy of anyone's attention after the pain and humiliation I suffered at the end of our senior year, but they've always been supportive, so that feeling of unworthiness has lessened over time.

The only thing they've asked of me is that I give my husband a child, preferably a son, who would then carry on the family legacy. It's something we've been unsuccessful at so far, and the pressure Carlisle is putting on my husband to start our family is beginning to strain our relationship.

Tonight is like every other night; I read and tinker in my journal, my secret hopes and dreams, all my regrets laid bare for no one else to see while he watches TV beside me. The lights go out, and he pulls me close, his hands finding their way under my nightgown. It's sometimes removed and tossed to the floor, and sometimes it's just pushed out of the way while he finds his way inside me in the darkness. In moves we've both memorized, we each find our release, quiet sounds filling the silence of the room before we roll back to our own sides to sleep.

It's never been passion and fire between us. Instead, I've found contentment, a love that wraps around me like a comfortable, worn blanket, soft in all the right places. I may not have the all-encompassing, consuming love I lost long ago, but I am loved.

He was one of the jocks, one of the popular people, simply because of who his family was. We didn't run in the same circles in high school, but I knew who he was. It was months after my world fell apart before I saw him again; not until we both began classes at A&M. Being there on a scholarship was a blessing to me, to my dad; a single father doing his best to raise me. I was surprised when I caught his eye; how a simple girl could attract one of the beautiful people. He says he watched me from afar for months, even in high school, but didn't make a move until I no longer belonged to someone else.

I was won over by his dimpled smile and witty sense of humor. I fell for him over time, giving in to his persistence. He was patient with me, waiting for my broken heart to heal before I could give it to him. But I did, as battered and scarred as it was, and we were married the summer after graduation.

Six years have passed since we said _'I do,'_ and we've grown into a comfortable rhythm in our day-to-day lives. I'm cared for, loved, and I love in return. I couldn't ask for more. But some days, when I'm alone with my thoughts, I think of the what-ifs, the possibilities that could have been if things had been different, and I ask myself if I'm truly happy with the life I've settled for.

 **Living a Lie**

Weeks go by, the days blending into one another, and the afternoons begin to shift from pleasantly warm to downright stifling. Our trusted farmhand, Jake, worked his last day just yesterday, and Carlisle made arrangements to find a replacement. He's sending him over to meet with my husband this morning. The clock strikes ten, and he announces he's going out to the barn to meet our newest employee.

"Why don't you head down in thirty minutes or so?" he asks, patting my ass as he walks by.

His playful touch makes me smile. "Sure. Want me to bring down some lunch for y'all or is it too early?"

"Maybe." He gets a twinkle in his eye. "Oh! Think you could whip up a batch of that berry lemonade you used to make? That sounds really good."

"I can do that," I say with a forced smile. It's something I don't make very often because of the memories I associate with it.

.

.

" _This is delicious, Bella."_

" _Really?" I ask, my voice hopeful. "It's the first time I've made it. You think it's sweet enough?"_

" _It's plenty sweet, but not near as sweet as I bet you are." His head leans_ _down,_ _and his lips brush mine, hesitant at first, but more_ _sure w_ _hen I press back. As first kisses go, it's perfect._

 _._

 _._

With a ' _thanks'_ and a nod, my husband grabs his Stetson and turns for the door, the screen slamming behind him. With reluctant hands, I get started on the lemonade, and before I know it, it's time to meet our newest farmhand. I gather the pitcher, and a stack of plastic cups and back my way out the door.

The path to the barn is dusty, the heat of the late morning already making the sweat gather on my neck. The sun is bright, and I keep my head tilted down slightly, attempting to keep the light from my eyes. I'm so focused on my destination, I almost miss it. The truck I pass on my way seems familiar, much like one of which I spent time under the hood and under the chassis, being schooled on the finer points of changing oil and other car maintenance.

.

.

" _No girlfriend of mine_ _is not going to know_ _how to change her own goddamn oil, Bella."_

" _But isn't that what I have you for?" I say with fluttering lashes and a silly smile before he kisses me and hands me a ratchet._

 _._

 _._

I shake my head of the memory and walk closer to the barn. I hear them before I see them, and their low, murmuring voices are serious. And while I can't catch what they're saying, I can sense the tension in their exchange.

As I get closer, what or rather who I'm seeing begins to come into focus, and my pace slows. When the flood of memories hits me full force, my steps falter.

.

.

" _Hi, I'm Bella. What's your name?"_

" _Edward," he says slowly._

" _Well, whatcha doin' hidin' under the big kid slide? You're not supposed to be over here. The kindergarteners are supposed to play over there," I say, pointing over to the smaller play equipment where the rest of our class is._

" _I ain't got no friends here."_

" _I'll be your friend."_

 _._

 _._

" _I think Tanya likes you, Edward," I tease. "She's been tellin' everybody you're taking her to the dance." We elbow our way through the halls of our middle school, walking toward one of the three classes we have together._

" _I ain't takin' her to the dance, Bella." He leans in close. "She smells like cotton candy; the kind that's real sweet and gives you a bellyache." He makes a face, making me giggle as we walk into the classroom._

" _Well, you better be tellin' her you're not takin' her before she tells the whole school she's your girlfriend."_

 _His scowl only makes me laugh harder._

 _._

 _._

" _So you told her no?" I ask, hopeful. While we may have shared a kiss this past summer, he hasn't made a move to ask me out or make us official._

 _He nods._

" _Why would you tell Katie Owens you already had a girlfriend?"_

"' _Cause I don't like her like that," he says, his response sharp as he gets to his feet._

 _I stand, facing him, my face level with his chest, but my eyes meeting his. "But why not? She's the prettiest girl in the whole junior class; maybe even the whole school!" I'm almost shouting as his voice rises over mine._

" _No, she ain't! You are, and I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember!" His chest is heaving as he looms over me._

 _My eyes widen at his admission_ _, and he_ _turns away quickly, his hand gripping at the roots of his hair._

" _You're what?" I ask quietly._

 _He turns to me_ _, and his_ _eyes are squeezed shut. "I'm in love with_ _you, Bella Swan_ _." His words are whispered like he's afraid to say them._

 _I take a step closer and reach out to touch him, my fingers barely making contact with the skin of his arm. "Edward, please open your eyes and say it."_

 _His bright green eyes open mere inches from mine as he looks down at me. "I'm in love with you." His hand reaches up, his finger tracing the apple of my cheek._

" _You are?" I ask in a whisper._

" _I am. I was hopin' you'd be my girl."_

 _I couldn't wipe the grin off my face if I wanted to. "I already am." My words barely leave my lips before his are on mine._

 _._

 _._

 _We're lying in the bed of his momma's pickup truck, my head tucked under his chin and our fingers intertwined as we gaze up at the stars; the big, Texas sky giving us quite a show._

" _You nervous?" I ask._

"' _Bout what?"_

 _I shrug. "Senior year's almost over. We'll be pushed out into the big, wide world soon."_

" _And?"_

" _I'm just ..." I sit up and wrap my arms around my shoulders._

" _What is it, baby? You worried about us?" He sits up beside me, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back._

" _Daddy wants me to go to_ _school, and_ _I can't imagine going without you," I say with tears welling in my eyes._

" _Bella, now don't you go changin' your plans on my account. You earned that_ _scholarship, and_ _you're gonna do great things because of it. You're gonna go to that big, fancy school and get your degree. Just 'cause I can't afford school don't mean I won't be with you. I'll find work in a garage or somethin' nearby and save up so when you're all done we can get married and have a couple babies," he says with a wink and a smile as he kisses my neck, making me laugh._

" _And you're still okay with ... waiting until we're married? For us to be ... together?"_

" _I'd wait forever for you, Bella."_

 _._

 _._

 _When I pull into the lot at school, I'm met with curious glances, and it feels like the entire student body is gawking at me. I grab my things and make my way inside, keeping my head down to avoid the stares. Paranoia creeps in, and I'd swear they're all whispering as I pass._

 _After getting what I need, I slam my locker closed and walk toward Mr. Banner's room. I'm more than halfway there when I realize my paranoia isn't unfounded. People are staring, whispering, and now pointing in my direction._

" _Mornin', Bella," Jessie Stanley says, coming up beside me. Her eyes scan the crowd wearily before looking my way. "You, uh, doin' okay?"_

 _My brow furrows. "Yeah, I guess. Why wouldn't I be?"_

 _She stops walking and places a hand on my forearm, causing me to halt my steps. "I just wanted to know how you were doin' after the break-up. I know you two were pretty tight."_

" _What the hell are you talkin' about? What break-up?"_

 _Her eyes_ _widen, and she_ _gapes. She closes and opens her_ _mouth to speak_ _many times before finally uttering the words I never thought I'd hear. "So Eddie cheated on you?"_

" _What? No! I just saw him yesterday morning. We're fine."_

 _Dread creeps up my spine as she fumbles in her pocket for her cell phone. Her fingers fly over_ _the screen,_ _and she thrusts it in my face. "Then_ _why is_ _he_ _naked and lyin' next to_ _Tanya Denali?"_

 _._

 _._

 _I peek through the parted curtains, tears streaming down my cheeks. They only intensify as I watch them pour down his._

" _Please, Bella, please," he begs. "I don't remember how I got there. I don't remember nothin'. You gotta believe me." His pleas are to a closed door. He's on his knees on our front porch with his hands_ _clasped,_ _and it nearly breaks my resolve._

" _You want me to send him on his way?" Daddy asks from behind me._

" _Please," I whisper. "I just can't see him right now." I turn to face my father. "Maybe soon, but I just need time."_

 _He nods and steps toward the door, opening it to the boy begging on his knees. I step closer, needing to hear his voice, wanting so badly to believe him, but I can't ... not yet._

" _Son," Daddy says gently. "I need_ _you to head_ _on home. Bella isn't ready to see you just yet."_

" _Sir, Mr. Swan, she has to. I need to speak to her, please!"_

 _My hands are on the door now, my fingernails almost digging into the wood as my forehead rests against the oak. My tears haven't abated, and I want to go to him, but I can't._

" _Give it time, son."_

" _Please, just ..." He sniffles. "Please just tell her I love her, and I'm not going to give up on us."_

 _._

 _._

For weeks I avoided him in school, dodged his daily visits at home, and ignored his constant phone calls. The day they all stopped was the day his house burned to the ground, killing his momma. I knew he needed me, but he wouldn't see anyone. He shut out the world, and I'd never regretted anything more than my decision to avoid him. He left town just days later. That was the last anyone heard of Edward Masen.

The last ten years haven't changed him so much I don't recognize the man before me, but he's not the same eighteen-year-old boy I knew. He's a little taller, a little more imposing, his shoulders broad ... a man. The sun shines on his bronze hair, cut a little closer than the messy mop I remember running my fingers through.

Tales and memories I wasn't there to share are etched into his skin in colorful tattoos that cover his arms, but it only adds to his beauty. I want to ask him how he is, where he's been, but I'm stunned still and silent as I take in all of him.

"Darlin', you remember Eddie Masen, don't ya?" Emmett asks, his jaw tense. He's clearly upset with the presence of the boy, no, the man from my past.

I clear my throat and walk to them. "Of course," I say softly. "How are you, Edward?" I can't meet his eyes, knowing I'll crumble under the weight of his stare if I do. Instead, I choose to focus on the ink on his forearm.

"I'm good. And you? How've you been, Mrs. Cullen?" His tone is even, calm, but it cuts through me like a blade.

"Just fine," I say with a whisper and a nod, willing away the tears that threaten to make an appearance.

Emmett grabs me by the waist, pulling me close. "Eddie here was lookin' for work, so he went to see Dad about a job. Looks like he's gonna be workin' for us." His irritation is clear, but we both know once Carlisle Cullen has made a decision, it's hard to change his mind. I'm sure this isn't the last I'll hear about this.

"It'll be nice to see a familiar face," I struggle to say.

"Why don't you pour us some of that there lemonade? It's shapin' up to be a scorcher today." Emmett's forced politeness is painful, judging by the look on his face.

I nod and busy myself with pouring their drinks. I'm trembling, so I have to focus on not making a mess of them and myself. I hand the first glass to our guest, and when his fingers brush mine when he takes it, I nearly drop it. The old spark I always felt at his touch is still there, simmering below the surface.

"Thank you," Edward says, his voice rough. I chance a glance at him as I pass Emmett his glass, and the intensity of his gaze nearly brings me to my knees.

When I'm finally dismissed, my feet can't move fast enough. I practically throw the pitcher into the sink on my way to our room. The tears fall fast and hard as years and years of memories fight their way to the surface; things long since buried so I could cope with the day-to-day ... so I could go on without him in my life.

From our moments spent playing on the playground, to stolen kisses and promises of forever, the man I planned to spend my life with so long ago made a lasting impression on me, on my soul; one that faded over the years, but never truly left me. I don't know how I'll be able to face him every day and not lose what's left of my scarred heart all over again.

 **Living a Lie**

Days stretched on, turning into weeks, and the tension grew as the temperature rose. Emmett acted as if he were the husband of the year in front of his farmhands, PDA being par for the course most days ... in the presence of others, anyway. In private, we were drifting apart. His frustration with our situation kept him tense, and his anger at his father for forcing him to keep Edward on, as well as pushing harder for us to have a baby, was making him snap at me behind closed doors. That led to me rejecting his attempts at showing attention and affection. What was always easy and comfortable between us was now awkward and unwanted. He'd eat what was placed before him, and I would make sure his home was fit for the king he believed himself to be, and we ignored the elephant in the room.

I caught myself many times through the day watching Edward from a distance. From the sanctuary of my kitchen or bedroom, my eyes would seek him out as he worked. What shocked me most was the number of times I caught him gazing toward the house, what I knew to be his penetrating green eyes hidden by the brim of his ball cap. And every time I did, the old breaks in my heart, ones healed over with scar tissue and contentment, would throb and crack.

The unmistakable sound of Emmett using the bootjack on the porch brings my head up from my task, some of the flour spilling over the side of the bowl.

"That son of a bitch," he grumbles as he storms through the door. The sound of Edward's truck speeding past the house and toward the highway fills the room, soon becoming a distant then nonexistent.

"What happened?" I ask as I wipe my hands on a dish towel.

His narrowed eyes meet mine. "That boy better watch himself if he wants to keep his job."

"Boy? What boy?"

"The boy who came crawling back to Burton with his tail between his legs, beggin' for work. He's lucky Dad gave him a chance at all, considering his record."

"Record? What the hell are you talking about, Emmett?"

"Nothin' that concerns you. Just go back to makin' your cookies or whatever the hell it is you do all day." He turns and walks out of the room, leaving me to wonder what the hell just happened.

His pounding footsteps up the stairs snaps me from my fog. His condescending words echo in my ears.

" _Just go back to makin' your cookies or whatever the hell it is you do all day."_

I'm beginning to feel like I live with a stranger. Lately, he doesn't even acknowledge what I do around here for him; that I chose to forego a career to be the wife he wanted. He has no idea what I do, what lengths I go to just to make sure things are to his liking, nor does he care to find out. He's only concerned with his supper being on the table and outward appearances. The weight of his expectations is suffocating, his need for perfection has always been there, but the pressure has only increased in the last few months.

With anger and irritation fueling me, I dump my project into the trash and toss the dirty dishes into the dishwasher before grabbing my purse and keys. Only with the sight of the house growing smaller in my rear view mirror do I feel like I can take a full breath.

Miles pass, fields and farms giving way to suburbs. I take the long way, down 237 through Round Top, taking 71 through Smithville and Bastrop. As I reach the outskirts of Austin, the sun begins to kiss the horizon, and I know it's time to turn around, whether I'm ready to go home or not.

When my stomach starts to object at being denied sustenance, I choose to turn off into Round Top, knowing Teague's Tavern serves the best burgers. I'm also not willing to endure my husband's ire at not being served his supper.

As I pull into the lot, I spot a familiar pickup truck, rusted in spots and dented in places old and new. My heart begins to pick up speed, threatening to beat out of my chest, but I steel my nerves and gather my courage, along with my purse, and get out of my car.

He's seated on the outdoor deck lighting a cigarette when I see him. The square, picnic-style tables are all adorned with striped umbrellas, unnecessary at this late hour, but I imagine they offer a sense of privacy hiding beneath them.

I wave off the hostess and walk his way. His gaze is fixed on the bottle before him, his fingers idly playing with the peeling label. It's one in a sea of several, and I have to wonder how long he's been sitting here, drinking alone.

"Mind if I join you?"

My voice startles him, and when his eyes meet mine, I find sadness. It's the same I often see reflecting back at me each morning as I look in the mirror.

"Sure," he says as I take a seat across from him. It's further than I'd like to be, but feels like a safe distance. "You're a little far from home, ain't ya?"

"A little." The waitress interrupts, taking my order before disappearing into the kitchen.

"That was quick. I remember you needing to read a menu a dozen times before you could decide. Even then you'd end up stealin' my food half the time." The corner of his mouth lifts into a grin before he takes a drag from his cigarette. The waitress returns, placing a Corona in front of me before disappearing into the kitchen.

I smile at the memory. "Yeah, but this place has the best burgers, which I don't get very often, so I knew before I pulled in what I wanted."

He nods, seemingly lost in thought.

"So," I begin, "Emmett sure was madder than a wet hen this afternoon."

Edward only hums in response as he stares at the bottle in his hand.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

He takes the last drag as he smokes it almost down to the filter before snuffing it out into the ashtray on the table. "I might'a said something to piss him off," he says, a hint of another grin on his face.

"Mind sharing with the class?"

The not quite grin slips away and is replaced with a serious expression that breaks my heart a little more. It's a look I'm not used to seeing from the man who was my best friend once upon a time.

He meets my eyes. "Just that he might have you now, but your heart was mine first."

The words crawl up my throat that my heart is still his, but I swallow them. I take a deep breath, needing to calm my racing heart and mind. "Did something he said prompt you to—"

He chuckles, dark and humorlessly. "Yeah, you could say that."

"What was it? It obviously upset you."

His eyes meet mine, and the cracks in my heart get just a little wider. "He was just runnin' his mouth about what y'all get up to behind closed doors. That and you're tryin' to have a baby."

I almost spit out my drink in response. Grabbing a napkin, I try to dab away what actually escaped my lips. "As you can see," I say, holding up my beer bottle, "I am not pregnant. And I'd appreciate it if my private life wasn't fodder for your pissing contest." I squirm in my seat as I sip from the bottle in my hand, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

He holds up his hands in surrender. "Just remember it wasn't me askin'. He was the one runnin' his mouth."

"I'll have to speak to him," I say softly with my eyes averted, embarrassed to be discussing this in public. When my eyes meet his, I can see the questions swirling in them.

"So he's all talk, then?" he finally asks.

Now it's my turn to play with the label on my bottle as I avoid his penetrating gaze. "You could say that," I finally whisper. I peek up to look at him. "Things haven't been the same between us in a while. They've been ... strained."

Our server chooses that moment to appear with my order, and suddenly my appetite has all but disappeared. I push around the food on my plate, staring at the melting cheese oozing down the side of my burger. I'm unwilling to meet his eyes, afraid of what I might find.

"So you two ain't happy?" he asks in a low, pained voice.

I'm still staring at the plate before me. "I thought I was." My eyes meet his. "Until you showed up and everything changed."

He's quiet for a few moments until he breaks the uncomfortable silence between us. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," I reply.

"Here I thought me stayin' away, you'd be happier. But it was all for nothing, wasn't it?"

"I think I was only ever _truly_ happy with you."

"Then why wouldn't you see me, Bella? After all the shit that happened, why wouldn't you see me?" he asks the pain and hurt clear in his eyes.

"I guess I just needed time. I would've talked to you, eventually, but by the time I was ready ..." My words trail off because I'm unwilling to bring up his momma's death and him leavin' town right after. It's just one more thing at which I feel like I failed him.

Silence stretches between us, the sounds of neighboring tables, laughs, conversation all too loud for the moment we're sharing.

"Can we go somewhere and really talk?" he asks.

"I'd like that."

After settling the bill and packing up our food in to-go boxes, he leads me back to my car, his hand on the small of my back. The touch is enough to light the embers, the familiar spark between us coming back to life. He gets into his truck and pulls out of the lot, me following as I hold my breath knowing I'm likely to get answers to questions I've had for years.

We turn toward Carmine, and he pulls onto 290. Minutes and miles pass before he turns off the road and down a paved driveway, driving past a house and onto a gravel lane. We wind along the path that leads us to a small trailer. It's a single wide, older, but well maintained. The small porch out front looks new, the wood still fresh and unweathered.

I park and cut my engine as Edward gets out of his truck. He unlocks the front door, and I follow him inside. As he places our leftovers in the refrigerator, I take in his home. The interior isn't what I'd expect; it's been updated. The kitchen is done in black and white, reminding me of an old diner with the shiny, stainless steel appliances. The colors of the kitchen bleed into the living room, the black and white now accented by red. The sparse furniture is older, but clean. While there's not much remarkable about his home, it's his personal touches that steal my breath.

The few pictures he has framed on a shelf are of the two of us through the years. From our adventures in the sandbox to middle school dances to the summer before senior year when we planned our future together, it's all there. The sight brings tears to my eyes.

"I know it's probably a little masochistic of me to hang on to all that stuff, but it's all I have left of you." His voice cracks with emotion. "I'd had it all boxed up until I moved here, but seeing you every day, even from a distance, made me want to get lost in the memories."

I close my eyes, willing away the sob threatening to burst from my chest. "Then why?" I whisper. "Why did you throw it all away for a quick fuck with Tanya Denali?" I finally turn to look at him, tears clouding my vision.

"I didn't, Bella. What happened with Tanya didn't actually happen."

"What are you talkin' about? I saw the pictures. _Everybody_ saw the pictures." I blink furiously, the tears finally escaping.

"Sit down, and we'll talk."

"No!" I say firmly. "I'll stand if you don't mind. Now, talk." I cross my arms over my chest.

He takes a deep breath and sighs. "I ran into her in Austin a few years after I left Burton, and she admitted to drugging me and sending out the pictures. She said her conscience was eatin' away at her."

My blood pulses in my ears, a cold sweat breaking out on my face. I give in and sit, unable to stand on my own two feet. "What? How? ... _Why?_ "

He takes a seat beside me, reaching for my hand. I don't stop him, instead, holding on to him like he's my lifeline. "Someone paid her to spike my drink and stage the whole thing."

Confusion furrows my brow. "Your drink? Edward, it was a Sunday afternoon or night. Were you drinki—"

He shakes his head. "No. I saw her when I was in town. She was having car trouble, and I stopped to help her. She insisted on buying me lunch to thank me. The last thing I remember about that day was finishing off my Coke and climbing into my truck."

The ticking clock echoes in the silence of the room, and I have no idea how much time passes as I digest his words. The devastation that ruined my life, stole our future, was all a lie, a game to someone else. The Tanya Denali I knew was a slut, but I never imagined she'd sink to such a low.

I process the words, and all the things I assumed about the day that ruined my life crumble under the weight of the truth. One thing, though, rings in my head. I turn to look Edward in the eyes.

"Someone paid her? Who would do that?"

He shakes his head. "She wouldn't tell me, but I have my suspicions."

"Why didn't you come find me?" I ask in a pained whisper.

His hand comes to my face, and I lean into his touch as his thumb brushes away the tears. "Because when I finally got up the nerve to go to your daddy and track you down, you were already with Cullen," he whispers.

"You went to Daddy?" My heart aches to think of the father I lost four years ago to a heart attack.

"I did. He showed me pictures of you and Cullen, said you were happy, content, and it was probably better if I didn't interfere. We both knew Cullen could give you a life I never could. He just wanted the best for his little girl."

I get to my feet, anger for a dead man surging through me. "He had no right to make that decision for me!" I turn back to look at Edward who's now on his feet before me. "I would've ... we could've ..." I dissolve into tears, harsh sobs ripping through my chest.

"Shh, it'll be all right," he whispers as he pulls me to him and holds me close.

"How? How can it be all right? I've lived the last ten years of my life based on a lie."

"I know, Bella, I know."

"What do we do now?" I whisper into the quiet. "I can't imagine living the rest of my life without you in it."

He pulls away enough to look down into my eyes, his searching mine. "Are you happy with him, Bella? Because that's all I've ever wanted for you."

I find the truth easier to say then the lies I've been telling myself all these years.

"I haven't been truly, completely happy since I was yours."

"I don't have much, I couldn't even find a job 'round here 'cause of some of the shit I've done, but everything I have is yours. If you want me to leave town—"

"No! Don't—"

"Shh, if you want me to leave town, I'll go, but if you want to leave Cullen, I'll live the rest of my life trying to make you happy. But I need you to know, you're the reason I came back. I never stopped loving you, and I couldn't, I _can't_ stay away from you any longer."

"Then don't," I whisper, "because I never stopped loving you, either."

As his lips gently touch mine, the last ten years we've spent apart fade away, and it's just the two of us, here and now. He's cautious, careful, but the simmering ember between us warms and sparks, igniting the long-dormant passion we once shared.

As his tongue parts my lips and tangles with mine, I allow myself to get lost in the sensation, the feeling of right and home. My hands find their way from his chest to his strong arms, arms that used to hold me and protect me, up to his shoulders and into his hair, my fingers woven into the strands.

Desire, a long-forgotten feeling, tingles down my spine, settling low in my gut, spreading warmth through my body. My breathing picks up as his hands roam; one gripping my nape, the other traveling to my waist, both holding me tightly.

"Tell me to stop, Bella," he says with his eyes squeezed closed when he breaks away, his forehead resting against mine.

Conflicted feelings war inside me. This man, this beautiful, broken man holding me in his arms has somehow come back into my life, and I finally feel like I've been given a chance to have real happiness. But I'm also a married woman, and my husband would never do this to me. Guilt for the kiss I just shared with Edward singes the edge of my conscience. With conflicting emotions and regret like I've never known, I whisper the words that cut like glass as they leave my lips. "We should stop. I'm sorry." I squeeze my eyes tightly closed, unwilling to see the pain I know I'll find on his face.

"Bella, look at me, baby."

I do, and I'm greeted with his apologetic smile and sadness in his eyes. "Please don't apologize. I should be apologizing. I have no right to ask any of this of you. You don't belong to me." His last words are whispered, making my heart ache in entirely new and awful ways.

"I just need time to figure out a few things. I can't do this to—"

He places his finger gently over my lips. "I know. And that's just one more reason why I love you. I'll be here when you figure things out."

I meet his eyes. "Will you come to work tomorrow?"

"Where else would I be?" he asks as he closes the distance and kisses me once more before I have to leave and face reality.

The drive back is over far too fast, and I'm soon pulling into the lane that leads home. I know I can't stay with Emmett; it isn't fair to either of us. While my happiness is important, the man I married deserves to be loved by someone who can give him her whole heart. I may have been able to give him what was left of mine, but he never had it all. It's these thoughts that are rolling through my head as I exit my car and turn to walk toward the house.

The sound of Emmett groaning grabs my attention. Strangely enough, it's coming from the barn. While I may not want to share the rest of my life with him, I also don't wish him any harm. I move toward the sound as quickly as my feet can carry me. Just before I reach the barn doors, another voice echoes through the air.

"Yes! Right there, Em! Fuck!"

Rosalie Hale is bent over a stack of old saddle blankets, her blonde hair wrapped around my husband's fist as he fucks her from behind.

Shock and confusion quickly morph into anger. Memories of stolen glances between them, her late night visits all flood my mind, and I'm suddenly furious. While I felt guilt over a kiss, he's been screwing our veterinarian for who knows how long. And any residual feelings of love and friendship I might have felt for Emmett, the need to let him down easy, evaporated in an instant.

I turn away and run for my car, knowing there's only one place I want to be at this moment; safe in the arms of someone who really loves me. As I drive down the road, I feel the pull toward him the closer I get. He's like a beacon in the darkness, drawing me to him. When my headlights pass over his trailer, I feel a sagging relief.

"Edward!" I yell as I bang on the door. "Edward, open up!"

His door flies open, his confused eyes meeting mine. Standing there in only his jeans, his tattoos are on full display under the dim light of the outdoor bulb. His hair is more disheveled than it was less than an hour ago, and I can see he was obviously asleep. "What's wrong? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?" With each question, he steps closer, inspecting me for damage that doesn't exist.

"No, I'm fine," I say when he finally gathers me into his arms.

"Not that I'm disappointed, but why did you come back?" He pulls me inside and closes the door behind us.

"I know what I want," I say as I look up into his eyes.

He swallows hard. "Yeah? And what is that?"

"You."

"And you're sure? Because once you say you're mine, I'm never letting you go again."

"More sure than I've ever been of anything else."

In a move so fast I don't have time to object, he picks me up by my thighs, wrapping my legs around him and holds me tightly as he walks us toward the back of the darkened trailer, all the while his lips insistent on mine, his kiss all-consuming.

We tumble into his bed, his scent surrounding me in the sheets and blankets as we struggle to rid each other of our clothing. My sundress is the first thing to go, leaving me in my plain, everyday bra and panties, not unlike what I wore back in high school.

"Do you know how hard it's been watching you all these weeks?" he asks me between kisses as he fumbles with his belt.

I grow impatient and brush his hands away and have it undone in only a moment. "Just as hard as it's been for me." I reach into his now open zipper, past the waistband of his boxers, and grasp him, his cock hard and ready in my hand. His groans only spur me on, my feet now joining in to rid him of his jeans. "Now, Edward, I need you inside me now. I've waited for you long enough," I whisper in his ear as his lips attack my neck.

With practiced precision, he removes the remaining fabric from my body, leaving me completely bare with only a breath of space between us. With my legs wrapped around him, his fingers find me, wet and ready, before his length pushes into me at an almost painfully slow pace. Gasps and groans break the silence of the room as he fills me. Larger than the only other man to ever be inside me, it's a feeling of fullness, of completeness I've never felt before, and not just in a physical sense.

The moonlight shining through the small window falls on us, and our eyes meet as the once frantic pace to join together calms, and we fall into a slow rhythm. "I never forgot how goddamn beautiful you were, Bella, but my memory just doesn't do you justice." His finger traces my lips and makes a path down my throat, across my collarbones and between my breasts. His lips follow, and the feelings coursing through my body nearly bring tears to my eyes. "I love you so much; I never stopped loving you," he whispers in the darkness.

Our joined hands come to rest above my head on the pillow beneath me as he slowly thrusts, loving me in a way I've never felt, completely and overwhelmingly. It feels as if he's devouring me, his mouth never leaving my skin, only seeking out new places to taste. As his lips close around my nipple, the sensation only increases the heat pulsing through me, causing me to call out.

"You like that?" he asks, his tongue still flicking over my stiffened peak.

"God, yes! Don't stop."

And he doesn't. His momentum picks up, the slow, torturous pace no longer enough. His grip on my hands tightens as he looms over me, his eyes never leaving mine. His rapid, stuttering breaths tell me he's close. With murmured words of love and promises, his movements become erratic. The pleasure builds before suddenly crashing over me, causing me to cry out, my moans echoing off the paneled walls as he groans his own release into my neck, and together we tumble into ecstasy.

Neither of us move; me lying beneath him, caged in his arms, and my legs still wrapped around him. Any other time, I'd feel smothered, trapped, but I can't remember the last time I felt so safe.

When he finally withdraws from my body and rolls onto his back, I immediately feel an aching emptiness I've never felt before. But it doesn't last long because he pulls me to lie on his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around me. Our breaths are still coming fast, and our hearts are still racing. We cling to each other as we come down from the euphoria at finally being together after all these years.

"I love you, Bella. I just want you to know that," he whispers into the quiet of the room.

"I know." I lift my head to look into his eyes. "And I love you, too."

 **Living a Lie**

When the morning sun finally peeks through the small window, we haven't moved much from the spots we fell asleep in last night. His arms are still wrapped around me, our legs are still intertwined, and my head is still on his chest, tucked beneath his chin.

Our breaths are soft and even, and I know we're both awake. He knows it too, and his fingers run through my hair and down my neck, drawing paths on my back.

"Good morning," I whisper.

"Morning." His voice is gravelly. "You sleep okay?"

"Better than I have in years." I squeeze him tighter, breathing in the scent that surrounds us. To others it may be strange, but it's the smell of _us_ , and nothing could be sweeter to me.

"Years," he repeats softly. "I wish I'd come back sooner." He squeezes me tighter in return.

"Why didn't you?" I ask, not moving from my spot. My fingers idly trace the lines of ink on his arm and chest.

"Got into some trouble not long after I left here."

"Trouble?"

"Well, you can imagine I wasn't in the best frame of mind when I left Burton, so I wound up gettin' myself arrested for assault; spent a couple years in jail for it."

My shocked eyes meet his. "Arrested? You were in prison?"

He clears his throat. "I wasn't in a good place back then, Bella. I lost you, Momma, my home, all my friends. I was angry at the fucking world. I'm just lucky the judge went easy on me since it was my first offense. Could'a wound up with a ten-year sentence, but he only gave me two."

"That must be what he meant," I quietly say to myself, thinking out loud about Emmett's comment yesterday about Edward having a record.

"Yeah, it ain't been easy the last few years, trying to find someone willing to give a convicted felon a job. I drifted from one place to the next for a while after I got out. I even spent some time stayin' with my cousin, Jasper, up in Washington. That's where I've been the last few years. But the pull to come back here was always strong. I knew one day I'd be back, even if it was just to see you from a distance."

"I'm glad you did," I say with a small smile.

"Me, too."

My eyes drift to where my head has been resting, and what I see brings a fresh round of tears to my eyes. The intricate tribal tattoo covering his bicep, up over his shoulder, and onto his chest leads to swirling lines that form a B and ink in the shape of a swan right over his heart.

"Is that—"

"It is. I've carried you with me for a long time, Bella."

"It's beautiful," I say as I kiss the skin etched to represent me.

"Just like you," he says as he leans down to kiss me. Before we can get carried away, I pull back, laying my head over his beating heart. His breathing is calm, but his pulse picks up, almost imperceptibly before he asks, "Not that I'm complaining, but what brought you back last night?"

"I saw Emmett with another woman," I reply, now feeling more hurt than anger at the memory.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

I raise my head to meet his eyes. "I'm not. It just made me see what was right in front of me all along; he isn't the one for me." After another soft kiss, I lay my head on his chest, snuggling into his warm embrace. "I don't want to leave, but I need to go home and figure out what to do next," I whisper as his fingertips travel up and down my spine.

"I know," he replies before kissing the top of my head. "But, like I said last night, I'll be here when you figure it out."

I sit up, bringing the sheet with me to cover my still naked body, then turn to look down at him. "If I need to, can I come back and—"

"Whatever you need. What's mine is yours, even if it's a rented trailer," he says with a lazy smile. He sits up, pulling me against his chest and yanking down the sheet in the process, exposing my breasts. "If we have to pack up and run away in the middle of the night, we will," he whispers in my ear. "I'm not making the same mistake again of leaving you behind. Where I go, you go."

I nod, allowing him to pull me back to the mattress to get lost in each other once more before we have to face the real world.

 **Living a Lie**

Deciding it's best to show up separately, I drive myself home, Edward agreeing to be about an hour behind me. Pulling into the driveway, I steel myself for the fight I know is coming. Last night I was worried my decision to chase my own happiness would hurt my husband, but now I know he was chasing something else entirely, so I'm not too concerned about his feelings.

What I don't expect is for Carlisle and Esme to be here when I arrive. Their cheerful faces greet me from the porch, Emmett standing with his folks. His crossed arms and forced smile in my direction brings me up short. Why he would be upset with me boggles my mind. But I decide to take a deep breath and face whatever fate has in store for me.

"Bella!" Esme's excited greeting makes me smile as she waltzes off the porch in my direction. "Em said you ran into town for something. I'm glad you're back so soon." As she swoops down and embraces me, it makes my heart ache, knowing her adoration and hugs will be gone from my life when I leave Emmett.

"Good to see you, Esme." She releases me, and I turn to my father-in-law. "You, too, Carlisle. What brings y'all here this morning?"

"We were just out and about and wanted to stop in and say hello," Esme says with a smile.

"And I wanted to see how Edward Masen was settling in," Carlisle says from his spot next to my husband.

"Oh?" I hide my nervousness as I retrieve my purse from the car.

"Yeah, but Emmett here says he hasn't shown this morning."

"Really?" I ask, turning to look at Emmett. The questions in his narrowed eyes burn through me, and I try not to shrink back.

"He called in a little while ago and said he was having some car trouble; should be here shortly," Emmett says in my direction, and it almost feels like a challenge.

"Then I wouldn't worry too much. He's usually pretty dependable," I say with a smile on my face.

The rest of the day is spent entertaining my in-laws, showing them the new additions to our team of horses, serving lunch, and eventually reintroducing them to Edward. It's a long and uncomfortable ordeal for me, but Edward seems to take it in stride, never letting on that he just spent the night and nearly an hour this morning between my legs.

When Carlisle and Esme finally decide to head home, Emmett walks them out, giving me an opportunity to sneak away and pack a few things. I have no intention of hiding my plans from my husband, but I want to pack as much as I can before he finds me, because it will undoubtedly lead to a fight.

He's gone long enough for me to gather my clothes, a few keepsakes I have stashed away in our room and the paperwork I'll need to access the money my father left me. It's been in an account collecting interest for the last four years, so I know I'll have the means to support myself for at least a little while.

"What the hell are you doing?" His voice startles me as I search through my jewelry box, causing me to drop the earrings I'm holding.

"What does it look like?" I ask as I turn to the bed where my packed bags lie. I shove the contents of my duffel down and zip it closed.

"It looks like you're about to take off. Mind tellin' me what the hell's gotten into you? Is this because I hurt your feelings last night?"

I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Hurt my feelings? Is that what you call fucking Rosalie? Hurting my feelings?"

The look of shock on his face is almost comical, but I don't stop to laugh. Instead, I gather my bags and step past him, into the hallway. Before I can get down the stairs, he grabs my arm and pulls me to him.

"That didn't mean anything, Bella. I was just pissed and frustrated, and—"

"I don't care, Emmett. If you could throw away our marriage over something that didn't mean anything, _I_ must mean nothing to you."

He releases me, and I walk swiftly down the stairs, Emmett hot on my heels.

"You don't mean that, Bella."

I spin on my heel. "Oh, I absolutely do. I left here yesterday thinking of how far apart we've been lately, how disconnected we are, but I didn't realize just _how_ far apart we were. I'm leaving, and you'll be hearing from my attorney."

I step out into the late afternoon light toward my car and shove my bags in the trunk. Emmett chooses to stay on the porch, but not without a final warning.

"You won't get away that easily, Bella. I'm not letting you go without a fight!"

I open my door, but look over the roof of the car toward the house. "You can fight, but you won't win. I came home last night to talk, to see if there was anything left of us to save, but instead, I find you plowing into Rosalie like that ..." I shake my head and turn in the direction of the horizon. I look back at the man who was once my friend, my lover, my husband, and see a stranger.

"The next time you see me, it'll be to sign divorce papers."

The cloud of dust follows me to the main road, and as I get further away from my unfulfilled past and closer to my possible future, I expect the tears to come, but there doesn't seem to be any. This is the moment I know I'm making the right choice.

 **Living a Lie**

The days following my hasty departure, Edward and I lived in our own tiny bubble. We talked, we went for drives, we made love more times than I could count, but we eventually had to return to real life. Edward never went back to work at my former home, so I knew by that time, Emmett had figured out where I was, but I didn't care. I was happier than I'd ever been.

Edward was, of course, worried about being able to provide for me, but when I told him about the money Daddy'd left me, he seemed to calm down a bit. He was able to convince Mr. Thomas, the man he rented his trailer from, to let him do some odd jobs around his property to supplement the rent. He was already working on the actual trailer, so it wasn't so much of a stretch.

I went to Austin to hire a divorce attorney, one I could afford and was excited yet nervous to file the paperwork. They pushed for me to sue for half of everything, but I refused; I only wanted out. Once it was done, there was no going back. I knew Carlisle and Esme would have their questions, and I didn't know how I would answer them. I only hoped honesty would win me their favor and they wouldn't think too badly of me.

A few weeks passed, and we fell into a routine. Edward worked for Mr. Thomas, and I cooked and cleaned and worked on a small garden. We talked about what our next step would be, after we were free of Emmett, and decided a change of scenery for me would be nice. Edward was excited to introduce me to his cousin and his wife, and I was looking forward to seeing a new part of the country.

When I realized my period was late, I was panicked. I had no idea how Edward would react. In all the talking we'd done, we'd not yet discussed children and when or if we would have them, but it seemed fate decided for us. When I showed him the positive test, I'd never seen him smile so brightly. What I didn't plan on was fate making other choices for us.

The banging on the door wakes me from my nap. It takes a moment for my sleep-addled brain to register the sound. I remember what I was told at my doctor's appointment two days ago, the long list of things to expect, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with the never-ending exhaustion. At first I think it could be Edward, but then I remember he drove into Houston this morning to pick up a part.

"Bella!" The voice, one I thought I'd not have to deal with until we signed papers, carries through the door. "I know you're in there!"

I stumble toward the door, both disoriented from sleep and nervous about why an angry Emmett is banging on our door. Opening it, I'm met with enraged, vengeful eyes.

"What—"

"Get your shit. We're goin' home," he says as he pushes his way into the trailer.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. And I think you need to leave."

He wheels around, pinning me with his gaze. His sinister smile sends a rush of fear down my spine. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm not leaving without you."

"And I'm not going anywhere _with_ you! You should have already been served the papers, so I'm not—"

"Oh, I got the papers. I also got a call at the house from your doctor's office."

I can feel the color drain from my face, and a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead as I clumsily sit in a kitchen chair.

"That's right, Bella. Your little secret is out."

His voice is foggy as the words swim in my mind. "They were supposed to call my cell," I say to myself.

"Well, they didn't. They left a nice, little voicemail. Imagine my surprise when I listened to it; calling to let you know they finally called in the right prenatal vitamins to the pharmacy. So since you're finally pregnant, you'll come home, I'll get my inheritance and my shares of Cullen Oil, and we can go back to the way things were."

His words don't make sense, and my head whips up to look at him. "It's not yours," I yell as I get to my feet. "I'm pregnant with Ed—"

"Do _not_ say his name," he says pointing his finger in my face. "You'll never speak about him again. I know damn well it isn't mine. But we're going to go on like none of this ever happened. My parents will get what they want, and I'll finally get what I want."

"What about what _I_ want? I'm not going anywhere with you! I'm staying right here and having my baby with the man I love, the one I've always loved. And I'm sorry if that hurts you, but—"

His laughter cuts me off, and I look at him wide-eyed and shocked that he could laugh at a time like this.

"What's so funny?"

"You really think it hurts me to know you didn't really love me?"

"It doesn't?" I ask, suddenly feeling uncertain.

"Bella, allow me to let you in on a little secret," he says as he steps closer. "You were always the prize to be won, Bella, an end goal; the perfect, naïve, moldable little woman. And I'm not afraid to go to the lengths I've already gone to just to have you."

"Lengths?" I ask, my throat tight.

"I've already paid people to try to get Masen outta your life, and I'm willing to do it again."

I take a huge step back, away from the man I thought I knew. His cheating aside, I always thought he was a good, decent man, but now I know differently.

"It was you," I whisper. "You were the one to pay Tanya to take those pictures, to break us up?"

"And when he still wouldn't go away ..." He steps even closer, whispering in my ear. "When he still spent hours begging at your door, I burned down his house to get him to leave town. And if you don't come with me, or if you decide to tell anyone about your little _indiscretion_ , I'll set fire to this dump, too. But I'll make sure he's locked inside this time."

I drop back into the chair, nausea crashing into me in an unrelenting wave as I process what he's just told me. He whirls around the trailer grabbing what he thinks are my belongings and I'm frozen in place. Even as he's dragging me from the one place I found true happiness and fulfillment, I can't react; I can't stop him or even object. It's like I'm in a living nightmare, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. He's bigger and stronger than me, and I have no fight left in me at his threat to harm the man I love.

"We'll have my parents over for supper tonight, and we'll tell them about the baby," he says as he drives us toward what's now his home. "And there will be no talk of divorce or Rosie, or anything else that would make them think things aren't perfect between us, you got that?"

I don't respond, I can't. He shuffles me into the house when we arrive, and I go through the motions of showering, dressing, preparing a meal to impress, all under his watchful eye.

When Carlisle and Esme finally arrive, I'm like a soulless shell, speaking when spoken to, and completely resigned to live this life so Edward can keep his. It isn't until Emmett grabs my hand, squeezing it, that I realize what he's about to do.

"Bella and I are havin' a baby!" His smile brings with it another wave of nausea. How he can sit there and claim another man's baby just so he can inherit his father's company is beyond me. But this is also the same man who ruined my life and Edward's, his mother losing hers in the process.

His touch makes my skin crawl, and I can barely disguise my disgust as Carlisle and Esme congratulate their son before enveloping me in their warm embrace. My tears of sadness and frustration are mistaken for tears of joy, and I eventually have to excuse myself from the room under the guise of needing to rest.

After they've finally gone, I find myself in the guest room, locked inside. My cell has been vibrating incessantly for the last hour with calls and messages, and under Emmett's watchful eye, I've yet to be able to check them. When I finally do, they break my heart.

 _Hey, baby. I just got home. Where'd you take off to? — E_

 _I'm a little worried, Bella. Your car is here, but you're not. — E_

 _Mr. Thomas hasn't seen you all day but remembers a big, black truck driving down the lane like a bat outta hell. I'm really fucking worried! Call me! — E_

That one was just minutes ago. The next message to light my screen tells me he's feeling as panicked as I am.

 _I'm about to call the police. — E._

With shaky fingers, I type a reply.

 _I'm safe, but I can't say_ _any more right now_ _. I just need some time to process everything. So much has happened so suddenly, I just need ... time. — B_

The dam I've been holding all day finally bursts and all the emotions pumping through me release in gut-wrenching sobs. To tell the man I love I need space hurt me far more than it could possibly be hurting him. I can only hope he sees through my flimsy excuse and knows I'm not doing this intentionally. His last message tells me how angry he is.

 _You ain't fooling me, Bella. There's no reason for you to run off to fucking process everything! I know that jackass got to you ... I'm coming to get you. — E_

I sit up quickly, and my fingers move furiously over the screen.

 _No! Don't come. He isn't in his right mind. Give me time to figure out how to handle him. Please! — B_

His reply takes a moment, and I can imagine him pacing and fuming over what I've asked of him.

 _I'm only waiting a few days, Bella. You can't ask me to sit here and do nothing. — E_

 _I'm not asking you to do nothing, I'm asking you to wait before you do something that could hurt us both. — B_

Minutes pass before he responds.

 _I'm only waiting until the end of the week. — E_

Then a moment later,

 _I love you, Bella. — E_

 _I love you, too. — B  
_

I toss and turn through the night, and when I've had enough, I decide to get out of bed. I quietly tiptoe down the hall and down the stairs toward the kitchen, to get something to drink. Standing at the kitchen sink, I sip some water from my glass. The unusually bright night sky casts an eerie glow over the yard, over the corral and barn. Just beyond the light of the moon, just within the shadows, I see the vehicle that brought me back to this place, away from Edward, and I suddenly have an irrational hatred for an inanimate object and everything it represents.

I step through the doorway, out into the night, and head for Emmett's truck. All of Edward's lessons so many years ago are foggy in my mind, but still there. It took him months to teach me about the basic systems of a car and how to maintain them, and surprisingly enough, I retained most of it. He also taught me what not to do to keep me safe. I reason the opposite would also be true.

Knowing he never locks his doors, I open the driver's side and reach for the hood release. The soft click tells me I'm successful, and I walk around to open it fully. It's a full decade newer than the truck Edward taught me on, but the systems are still familiar. My fingers dance on the air as I inch closer to the master cylinder, but before I make contact, I freeze and withdraw my hand.

I realize my hands won't get the job done and I walk around to the truck bed to the toolbox he keeps back there. Finding what I need, I pick up the wrench with the shop rag so as not to get my fingerprints on it. I loosen the brake lines coming from the master cylinder, not completely disconnecting them, only allowing air into the system, then replace the tool in the box. I close the hood as gently as I can and make sure everything is to rights before I turn to walk back toward the house. Before I reach the porch, I stop and turn around.

On an impulse, I walk back to the truck toolbox and grab a screwdriver. I use the shop rag to loosen the caps on the tire valve stems and use the flathead to depress the pin, releasing enough air to make for a sloppy ride. After all the tires have been lightened, I replace all the caps and go back inside the house. Passing the door to Emmett's bedroom, I hear his snores.

 _Sleep well, Mr. Cullen. The time for you to pay for all you've taken from me is coming._

 **Line break?  
**

Somehow, my car mysteriously showed up here two days ago, but I haven't asked how. And fate, being the evil bitch she is, keeps Emmett home for days. I begin to fear he's never going to leave. He's also disconnected the house phone, taken my cell phone, and won't allow me to go anywhere without him — as if I would climb willingly into his truck anyway. I feel trapped with no way out. I keep holding onto hope he'll eventually have some errand to run and have to leave.

I get my wish one stormy afternoon. It started with a call to his cell, which sent him bolting out the door. The rain was unrelenting, and instead of focusing on what could happen to my husband, all I could think about was how Edward was faring in this weather. It had been nearly a week since I'd laid my eyes on him or even spoken to him.

When hours passed after Emmett left, the local news station began reporting flooded roads, and nervousness began to churn in my gut. It wasn't until the local police knocked on the door did it all become real. Words about possible hydroplaning were spoken, though I was too emotional to truly process them. Feelings of guilt and relief warred inside me. I knew the weather wasn't wholly to blame.

I had killed my husband.

I was free.

The hardest part was playing the devastated wife for days. Between making arrangements, the open-casket service at the church nearly the entire town attended, and receiving guests at the home of my in-laws, I was beyond exhausted. Watching Carlisle and Esme say their tearful goodbyes was enough to stir my already strained mental state, so showing emotion wasn't a problem.

Having to watch the man I love from across the room while I pretended to mourn for my dead husband was enough to bring on genuine tears, too. His expression when his eyes would meet mine was one of understanding, but I couldn't comprehend how he could feel that way. If he truly understood what I'd done, how could he stand to look at me?

I do have genuine remorse for what I did, but it isn't enough for me to regret my actions. No, what's hard for me is sitting across from the man I have come to think of as a father figure and tell him I don't want anything from Emmett's estate. Carlisle's puzzled expression only adds to my uneasiness at what I need to do.

"What do you mean you don't want it, Bella? You're his widow. By all rights, it's yours."

"I know, but I'd rather it be absorbed into your estate. I don't want the money," I say adamantly.

"If not for you, then for the baby you're carrying. It's a Cull—"

I take a deep breath, and interrupt him, steeling myself for the words I never intended to say today, but need to nonetheless. "Over a month ago, I served Emmett with divorce papers."

His stunned silence stretches far longer than I think it should, making me squirm in my seat.

"What ...? How ...? You were having a baby," he finally says. "How could you have filed for divorce if you were having his child?"

With as much calm as I can muster, I look directly into his concerned eyes and speak. "I caught Emmett with another woman not quite two months ago and filed the next week. The documents on file will support the dates if you need to see them. There was another man I grew close to around that time, and the baby I'm carrying is his."

"Then how—"

"I only wanted out of the marriage," I continue. "I wasn't asking for anything but my personal belongings; not the house, not any of his money, nothing. I only wanted to move on with my life, but he found out about the baby and wanted to claim it as his so he could have access to his inheritance. He dragged me home, threatened me, and I was in the process of figuring out what to do when he had his accident."

I don't dare tell him it was his stipulation of an heir that drove Emmett to drag me home, made him so determined to hold onto me. I would have slipped away with the clothes on my back, and they'd have never heard from me again.

His gaze turns to the window. "I didn't really know my son at all, did I?"

 **Living a Lie**

"Is that the last of it?" Edward asks as he slams the tailgate closed. He moves around the truck bed, making sure all the edges of the tarp are secure.

"I'm pretty sure," I say as I take one last look at the trailer in which we've spent the last month.

He comes up behind me, his hands resting low on my belly. "You ready to hit the road, then?"

I turn in his arms, mine resting around his neck before I place a kiss on his lips. "I am. I can't wait to meet your family and see Washington. I hear it's a whole lot greener than here," I say with a smile, squinting at the morning sun as I look up at him.

"It is. Green and wet and fresh ..." He kisses my neck. "Fresh just like our fresh start."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

With promises of a new start, we hit the road. Hours and miles pass, music and conversation filling the time; happy, new memories to replace the old, sad ones. We spend the night in Lubbock and rise early the next morning for the next leg of our journey.

"I think we'll make it past Albuquerque today," Edward says from behind the wheel as we drive along 70. We're heading west toward the Texas, New Mexico state line.

"Hmm?" I reply, lost in my own thoughts.

"I said we should make it past Albuquerque today." His concerned eyes flash to mine. "You okay? You seem like you're a million miles away." He reaches across the seat, takes my hand, and brings it to his lips, kissing my knuckles.

"I'm fine. Just a little distracted," I say with what I hope is a reassuring smile.

"If you're sure."

"I am," I say as I reach up to kiss his cheek.

More miles fly by, and we soon pass a sign announcing our arrival to the town of Farwell. My mind plays with the word, and _farewell_ floats through my thoughts. We'll soon be saying farewell to Texas and all the troubles of our past. I turn to look at the man beside me, the man who fate saw fit to bring back into my life. I know the path we took to get here was lined with lies and deception, and I don't want that for our future.

"Can we pull off somewhere before we cross the state line?" I ask.

He looks confused but agrees anyway. "Sure. Need a pit stop already?" he teases.

"No, not yet," I say with a small smile.

He nods then turns off the highway and drives down County Road 1 until we reach a fork in the road. He pulls to the side, kills the engine, and waits patiently for me to speak.

"I don't want there to be secrets between us." Nervousness churns in my gut as I speak. Emmett's accident has never been discussed between us, but I'm almost certain he suspects what I've done. If he does, he's never voiced it. But the truth is about to crawl its way to the surface.

I turn my body to face him and take both his hands in mine. "I want ... No, I _need_ to leave the past here in Texas. Whatever happened, ten years ago or ten days ago, it needs to stay here. Once we pass the state line, it's a new start for us," I say, pleading in my voice.

"Okay. I want that, too, Bella." He's patient as he waits for me to speak.

I gather every ounce of courage I have, and the words pass my lips. "I found out Emmett was the one who paid Tanya, and the one who burned down your house and killed your momma," I say with a whisper, tears filling my eyes as they bore into his. The pain and sadness I see in his breaks my heart.

"How did ..." He clears his throat as his emotions threaten to choke him, tears filling his own eyes. "How did you find out?"

"Because he threatened to do it again if I didn't leave you and go home with him. He wasn't gonna let me go, either." I turn to look out the window at the still landscape to blink away my tears.

"Then I'm glad he's gone," he says, his voice full of conviction.

I nod. "That's not all," I whisper before turning back to look at him.

"What else?"

"I tampered with his brakes and tires; I'm the reason he's dead," I croak.

His thumbs wipe away the tears running down my cheeks, and he offers a small, tear-filled smile.

"Then we both are," he says softly.

"We're both what?"

"We're both responsible for his death."

"How can you say that?"

"Do you really think I was at home just sittin' on my thumbs waiting for you to come back?" He leans in close. "The night before the accident I just happened to sneak over there and have a look under that hood myself. And what do you know, someone had already beat me to it."

"So you've known this whole time?" Fresh tears fill my eyes as I think about what he must think of me.

"I have, and I ain't never been more proud, baby."

"But I—"

"Shh," he says as he kisses me. "I have to admit I double checked what you did," he says sheepishly. "You had the right idea, but it might not have worked right away. I drained some of the brake fluid and made sure there was enough air in the lines to cause a problem, then I tightened them up a bit, too. I didn't want it to be too obvious in case they looked over the truck." He hesitates. "And I'm also the one who made the call," he says, just loud enough for me to hear. "The night Emmett died, I'm the one that called. I told him Rosalie was hurt and needed his help. I saw what you did, and I knew I had to get him in that truck. So you're not alone in what happened, baby."

He brushes the loose strands of hair from my face. "Do you know what I thought when I saw what you'd done?" he asks, his eyes intently on mine.

I shake my head almost imperceptibly, my tears drying.

"It only tells me something I already knew." He searches my eyes and the love I see in his almost steals my breath. "After everything we've been through, we'll both do anything to be together."

He holds me for a long while, our hearts beating in time with each other. Thoughts of leaving behind all the secrets of the past swirl in my head, and a sudden wave of peace washes over me.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay, baby. I know you did what you had to. We're together now, and that's all that matters, right?"

"Right," I say with a small smile.

"So, are we done with this place? You ready to put it all behind us and start over?"

"I am."

He starts the engine and puts the truck in gear before reaching over and grabbing my hand. We make our way back to the highway, heading west toward our future. When the _Thank you for visiting Texas_ sign passes us by, I feel lighter. And when we pass under the sign welcoming us to New Mexico, _The Land of Enchantment_ , I feel like I'm finally getting my fairy tale ending.


End file.
